


Therapy

by carpetsocks



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Crack and Angst, Dissociation, Emotional Crutches, F/M, Failed Therapy, Mental Breakdown, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Panic Attacks, Post-World of Warcraft: Legion, Unhealthy Relationships, emotional whiplash, memory problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29173608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpetsocks/pseuds/carpetsocks
Summary: The Wardens now require a psychological evaluation. Maiev's does not go well.
Relationships: Maiev Shadowsong & Malfurion Stormrage, Maiev Shadowsong/Illidan Stormrage
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Panic/anxiety attack, mental breakdown, dissociation, fairly intense. Stay safe.

“What you’re feeling is regret,” the kal’dorei sitting in front of her said, looking down at his notes.

“Regret for what?” She snarled. She’d have to teleport over to the Broken Shore after this. Seeing her blade covered in demon blood always made her feel better.

“Regret and a lack of purpose, is that correct?” She fought down the urge to strangle him. After the defeat of the Legion, all divisions of the kal’dorei military had begun to require regular psychological checks. By Malfurion’s order. Maybe she did feel regret. Both Stormrage twins should have died by her hand.

“I’m done here.” Let him send a report to Malfurion that she hadn’t completed it. They wouldn’t kick her out of the Wardens. Even if they did, she’d had to work solo before. She didn’t need anyone, least of all that Elune-forsaken demon hybrid who had chosen Argus over everything.

“It sounds like you developed an ill-advised dependence—an addiction of sorts—to the Betrayer,” the therapist said before she threw a dagger at him.

Malfurion found her. She could sense the anger bristling off the druid, feel the threat looming above her. “Do you know how many chances I have given you against both my common sense and the advice of others?” He asked. She reached for her helmet and backhanded him when he tried to stop her.

He rubbed at his sore arm, still scowling at her. “Maiev, stop. Listen to me.”

“No.” Malfurion was as hated as his brother. He didn’t deserve her time.

She could almost sense the druid beside her praying for patience. He hated her as much as she hated him. It was mutual. It reminded her of what she had had with Illidan in the beginning. Maybe after ten thousand years, she would find a replacement in the other Stormrage.

“You’ve been deemed unfit for duty,” he said finally.

“So?”

“And… charges are being pressed.”

“So?”

“You’ll probably be banished.”

“So?”

“Maiev, look at me.” His voice was gentle, the exact same pitch as his brother’s, but cleaner somehow. Not Illidan, but close enough. She scowled at him.

“Where are you?”

That was an excellent question. Damn. Reality slipped through her fingers as she tried to grab at it, to answer his question and she felt the beginning of panic bubbling in the back of her throat. Too vulnerable, with an enemy, she had to kill the enemy but was it even there was it real was anything real and she curled her fingers into the dirt, grounding herself like he had taught her so many millennium ago when he had started seeing the cracks and tracing them to the end and sealing them up and Malfurion wasn’t Illidan, he would never be Illidan. Illidan would have made contact of some sort, told her to focus on her sense of touch until she knew that she was sitting somewhere cold with wet river dirt and Illidan and he would guard her until she recovered, that she wasn’t vulnerable and maybe that was why she had been so addicted to him, because he scared her and made her feel like no one would ever hurt her again, and that he saw her cracks as scars and beauty and he could not be scared off by them.

She took a deep breath and uncurled, letting go of the dirt. Maybe the trees and the river and the rocks and the grass and Malfurion weren’t real but they were what her mind was presenting her with at the moment, and she would act on it. Nothing had felt real in so long. She didn’t mind crying in front of an illusion.

Malfurion stared at her in utter concern as she wiped the tears off her face. “Are you alright?” He asked. She just laughed until the humor left as suddenly as it had come and left her with nothing.

Ever so slowly, like she was a wild animal he was trying not to spook, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a green crystal. Arcane magic snapped around it, and underneath it, the bitter aftertaste of fel magic. Maiev reached forward to grab it, to be able to hold and _feel_ the last shards of himself that Illidan had left on Azeroth, left not for her because he had never really cared about her, he had hated her, and he wanted to make her suffer.

Malfurion gently pushed her back to a sitting position and activated the crystal. Illidan’s voice, scoured by years of corruption and demonic magic, filled the air. She had no idea what he was saying, but she could feel her mind whirring and snapping back into the state that she’d long since learned was healthy and stable and normal for everyone but her. Her focus crawled out from under the rock and the dam that her memories were trapped behind started leaking into the canals again, deep and pure water that she hadn’t realized she needed. Malfurion was watching her out of the side of his eye but that was alright, that was alright, that was alright. The sunlight played on the burbling water and she could hear a few chicks in the tree above her. Heat and magic radiated off Malfurion, bringing the fresh green blades of grass stretching towards him. The bark behind her scratched at the bare skin of her neck, and she ran her fingers over the damp ridges of the rock she was sitting on down into the freezing, clear melted-snow water.

“And… take care of Maiev, please. Consider it a dying wish for taking care of my mate or something. I know she can be difficult, but… she doesn’t have much. Just keep her in the Wardens, keep her pointed at something, don’t try to contain her or make her hold still… she’s gotta destroy something, if she doesn’t, she’ll turn all that energy on herself. And if she gets too worked up or out of it or just batshit insane, play this for her. She doesn’t usually think I know she needs me or that I’m okay with that, but I know she does. Tell her I’m sorry for leaving her behind. Anyways, thanks, brother. I hope you have a good life.” The recording ended, the glow from the crystal fading again.

Malfurion looked at her and she felt her cheeks flush despite herself. “Better?” He asked.

She didn’t dare ask him to play it again. Do it too much and this wonderful twisting agonizing love and hatred and fire would disappear and never come back. “Yeah,” she murmured, looking down at the water.

“You have one more pardon, but you have to promise me… keep it pointed at the enemy. Okay?”

She watched a squirrel jump from one branch to the other. “Okay.”


End file.
